Original Fiction
In the Dark
Garrett is lost in guilt because he inadvertently caused the accident that blinded his lover. Never again will Jesse enjoy beauty, and that's his fault. He can't forgive himself. Jesse, however, is fed up with Garrett thinking that a blind man can't love, can't feel beauty or enjoy life. He's set out to make a point.
“Garrett, come here.”
“What?”
“Come here,” Jesse repeated as he moved toward the front door, easing his way until he found the table and then letting his fingertips slide along the polished wood as headed outside. He could hear Garrett behind him, but he moved down the porch to his favorite spot.
“What?” Garrett repeated.
Circling around Garrett, Jesse put his hands on his shoulders and moved him into the exact right spot. “Now close your eyes.”
“Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“I’m not going to sucker punch you.”
Garrett sighed. “You’d have a right to, you know. I wouldn’t even complain. Much. Okay, they’re closed, now what?”
“Listen.”
“To what?”
“Just listen,” Jesse whispered, not wanting to interfere with the moment. Above the trees moved in the wind, leaves chittering softly. Some house nearby had windchimes, and he could hear the high bright notes of a small chime dancing merrily, the low tones of one of those long-tubed chimes occasionally sounding. An old fashioned sprinkler sputtered, the water alternating between a shushing noise and a sigh. A dog in the distance barked, not in alarm, but more the sort of deep-throated song of a dog that just enjoyed hearing itself. Distant voices called out, their words lost, but the joyous tones drifting on the breeze.
Leaning forward, Jesse breathed into Garrett’s ear, “Smell.” The trees smelled of green and the red of roses faintly shaded the edges of his awareness. The earth smell of the sprinkler’s water soaking into the grass and dirt made a thick brown rise up to contrast the other colors. Leaving Garrett’s side, Jesse went to the rail and bent down, the red blossoming in his awareness until it nearly pushed all the green out. His fingers quested gently until they found a rose, and then he pulled at the stem, the vivid green of broken leaves and stem joining the choir. Standing up, he headed back to Garrett’s side, bringing the startling red of rose scent with him.
“Do you smell it?” Jesse asked quietly.
“Is it…” Garrett frowned, “the roses?”
“And the ground and the trees and the water of the sprinkler,” Jesse added. “Smell the way they blend together. And what do you feel?”
“Like if someone sees me I’m really going to be embarrassed,” Garrett said softly. Jesse poked him somewhere in the middle.
“I feel warm,” he offered.
Jesse reached for the table that always sat out here, placing the rose on it before he stood next to Garrett and tilted his head up toward the sky. “Can you feel the sunlight in dappled spots against your skin, filtering in through the leaves of the tree?” he whispered. “Can you feel the light breeze tickling through your hair, the warmth rising up from the house?”
Garrett didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice had fallen to a whisper. “Yeah, I feel it.”
“This is beauty,” Jesse said. Stepping forward so that Garrett wasn’t the center of his attention, Jesse sank into the beauty of his haven. His skin could feel each spot of sun dancing across his face, and the colors of scent swirled around him, playing with the sounds so that scent and sound danced for him. “This is beauty,” Jesse repeated softly.
He heard shifting behind him, and then Garrett’s hands rested against his arms. Garrett always had such wonderful hands, calloused but gentle, the texture waking the nerve endings in Jesse’s body when he would run them reverently up and down Jesse’s naked body. Jesse wondered if it would feel the same now, without his sight. Slowly, Garrett stroked Jesse’s arms, his warmth soaking into Jesse, his rough hands sweeping up and down Jesse’s arms.
“You never should have suffered the way you did.”
“No, I shouldn’t have,” Jesse agreed. “But you didn’t take beauty from me. You didn’t take joy. I’m blind Garrett, not dead or miserable or suffering. Just blind.” Jesse leaned back into Garrett, feeling the resistance in that strong body. He took too much guilt on himself. Oh, he owned some of the blame, but not all of it, and he certainly needed to stop thinking of Jesse as something so irrevocably broken that he would never recover. He would never recover his sight, but to believe that Jesse would never enjoy beauty again… that was a little melodramatic. And as the king of melodramatic and therapy, Jesse knew it when he heard it.